


Stocking Stuffers

by risquetendencies



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Bad Holiday Puns, Ficlet Collection, Gift Wrapping Shenanigans, Holiday Fic Exchange, Improper Use Of Icing, M/M, PWP, Smut And Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's exactly what the pun title implies - a collection of smutty ficlets to bring you holiday cheer. </p><p>AkaFuri | MuraHimu | MidoTaka</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stocking Stuffers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasingstarfall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingstarfall/gifts).



**AkaFuri**

* * *

 

“There!” Kouki lined the last piece of tape. “Kuroko’s present is done.”

He placed it a few paces away, carefully adding it to the pile of the gifts that had already been wrapped. So far he'd wrapped nine, but there were still many more to do. The majority were for family and friends, but there were also ones to be donated to organizations that requested gifts for those who didn’t have them.

Something Kouki was more than happy to help with.

Eyeing the numerous bare items, he stood from his crouched position to peer over the boxes and toward the middle.

A red head was roving about, sealing the gifts elegantly and more flawlessly than he ever could. His weren’t horribly wrapped, but they weren’t a hundred percent neat. Not like the ones being done by his skilled lover in the center of all the to-be-wrapped items. Those boxes looked straight out of a catalog, much to his dismay.

“Sei,” he called over the makeshift barrier, breaking the other’s concentration, “How many have you done so far?”

There was the rustling of paper, and then it was once again quiet. Akashi rose from his spot to grant the brunet his full attention, the glittering holiday lights from the tree reflecting in his mismatched orbs.

“About fifteen.” Kouki sighed at the reply. Of course he’d be ahead of him. “There’s still a lot to do, though.”

He couldn’t agree more with that. At this point, they’d be here all night, even though it already felt like they’d been there for hours. Kouki groaned at the stiffness in his legs. Sitting in one spot was taking a toll on him, and he wondered if a short break would be an issue.

There were pieces of tape stuck to his clothing, and wrapping paper that had somehow landed on top of his head. But Kouki had been too exhausted to remove either of them for the time being. Besides, it wasn’t that much of an interference.

Things tended to get a little messy when you were doing stuff like wrapping; it was a part of the fun in some respects. However, what really sounded great was a pit stop for a bit of cocoa or vegging out on the couch. They could easily come back to the mountain of other gifts later.

“We should take a break,” Kouki found himself saying without reconsidering, “I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore.”

He heard Akashi concur, and that was enough of an answer for him to cease any movement. Flopping down where he had been sitting, Kouki fumed at how the tape on him began to snag onto some of the excess wrapping paper, easily sticking to his clothing and causing him to rush to wiggle free before it became permanently attached.

Or that's what he would have done, if it weren’t for the presence that suddenly loomed over him.

“Why, Kouki,” Seijuro purred, and Kouki sensed the hairs on the back of his neck elevating in unison, “I wasn’t aware that this was a present that had yet to be wrapped. I will gladly handle it.”

The brunet’s hand instantly shot up, or one did since the other was still engaged in trying to throw off the wrapping supplies.

“N-no,” he sputtered, inching… or rolling back as far apart from him as he could, but he was barely succeeding. “The tape got caught on me and then it caught the paper! I was just trying to get it off!”

Akashi crouched beside him, gaze softer around the edges. At that observation, Kouki ceased his flailing, pausing to see what his lover would have to say next, considering he no longer seemed ready to pounce.

"Teasing," he lilted, reaching a hand out to pull some of the debris from his hair. "But I like this idea... of a break." His eyes looked on him with a quieter desire, one that Kouki felt drawn in by, if slightly mystified. Seijuro was rarely spontaneous, even in this sector. Not that it bothered him, but it made this invitation a definite anomaly.

"Also, you will always be my favorite Christmas gift." One of his fingers stroked along the slope of brunet's agape jaw before running his thumb against Kouki's lower lip. "The one I get to enjoy all year round."

Warmth bloomed in his heart gradually as the words worked their way into him, spreading through his chest before searing the rest of his body.

When at last it fully struck him, Kouki was humbled, stammering out a few noises of disbelief as the other continued to caress various parts of his face. But those lovely eyes pinned him from retreating, the sincerity in their depths slowly wearing him down. Once his doubts were shredded, his pulse beat fitfully, and he tried with all his might to generate some worthy comeback. That was useless though, given his meager talents.

Words were impossible; he could never pull declarations like Akashi's out of thin air that did justice to his feelings. But that didn't mean he didn't feel them intensely, especially in saccharine moments like then. Seijuro was always telling him how blessed he felt that they were together, and it did things to him he couldn't quantify. For someone like him, for whom self-esteem had once been a joke when he'd compared the two of them, it was by far the sweetest sentiment he could receive.

Compromising, he scooted closer, upsetting their arrangement to cup Seijuro's own jaw and draw him close.

Entwined, his senses were overrun with the sensual scent of his cologne, the temporary firmness of his lips as they grew pliant to his kiss, the hint of cinnamon on his breath. Kouki propelled forward, nuzzling their mouths together. Twice, and then a third time, until he was growing frustrated and licked at the seal of his lover's mouth, demanding entrance.

Akashi submitted easily, lips parting until the brunet’s tongue had wiggled its way fully in. There he was met with Seijuro’s own aggressive one, which quickly took hold of their entanglement and brushed up roughly against Kouki’s, nearly forcing him backwards. Kouki whined at the change of control, and retaliated by gliding back, scraping his tongue over the redhead's teeth and earning a murmur of surprise from his lover.

One of Seijuro’s hands then extended, resting on his shoulder to steady their wobbly posture, using the advantage to pull Furihata closer. The brunet fell gracefully forward until he landed gently on his back, Akashi oddly glued to him as they mingled together on the living room carpet.

A bit too close than what he had in mind. Kouki shifted in his spot, realizing neither of them were budging. In fact, they seemed to be stuck together. Literally. The tape that Kouki had never got the chance to remove had now caught onto the fabric of Seijuro’s attire as well.

Moving to disconnect them, Kouki was curtailed by a hand rising to the occasion. Or it tried to, given how it was trapped between them.

“I have a better suggestion,” Seijuro interjected, and Kouki knew by that tone alone what was about to transpire.

Barely having a moment to react, Kouki felt those proficient fingers dive underneath the hem of his sweater. He leaped to protest, arms flailing before him, but succeeded only in making them more stuck. If anything, he was worsening the situation much, much more than before, and his lover was taking advantage each chance he got.

“W-why can’t we just remove the tape?” Seijuro’s hands were now caressing his exposed chest. “That would be the easiest way!”

But as the warmth he was so accustomed to began to glide against his skin, Kouki found any arguments diminishing. After all, he had been the one to jumpstart their bolder entanglement in the first place. Willingly yielding, he allowed Akashi to slide the material up and over his head, taking along with it any of the tape that had caused the incident.

The sweater was then cast to the side, landing atop one of the many boxes they had spent hours wrapping. Akashi’s plush lips locked in on his, prying them apart and allowing Seijuro’s tongue to intermittently meld with his own or run across his strand of ivories. Kouki’s eyes battled to stay open, wanting to focus on Seijuro's wistful expression, but the heat consuming was making that an impossible effort.

Akashi’s still clothed torso brushed against his own, the sleek material nudging against his slumbering buds and granting him a round of shivers. Yet, as delightful as it felt, Kouki knew there was something that could be much more enjoyable, and that lay buried beneath the layers of the holiday scene that hindered him from experiencing his lover to the fullest.

Heart in control, Kouki went to work, dividing their sultry contact and confusing Akashi to the core. He instantly diminished that concern by wedging his own hands under the redhead’s sweater and beginning to rid him of the material. There wasn’t the slightest bit of reluctance as Akashi aided him with the material until he was flinging it over his head and across the room to join Kouki’s discarded top.

“How bold of you, Kouki,” he crooned happily, earning a flushed brunet in response.

Seijuro was then once more in control, palms coasting down Kouki’s torso and divulging a whimper from his lover's throat. He paused, fingers toying with the stiff mounds and eliciting another melodic noise when he gently tugged at one. His mouth was there in a second, soothing any discomfort he may have caused and only causing the nub to tighten from the many moist swipes of his tongue.

His fingers tantalized the other, thumb sweeping against the quivering mass before pinching the sensitive flesh between two digits. Teeth grazing softly against the first, Akashi smiled against his lover’s trembling form, Kouki’s lyrical moans a joy to his ears that only kindled his own arousal.

As he permitted himself to become consumed in their torridity, Kouki racked his brain for how this all came to be. To think something as innocent as gift wrapping led to something so… He found it difficult to finish that thought, for he knew what they were entwined in was only the start, and much more was to follow. He could only be thankful they had separated from the rest of the group to wrap presents alone. Surely this would have ended on bad terms if not.

His musing was curtailed when he encountered Akashi’s supple lips once again and he quickly gave in. Relaxed against the smooth carpet, he felt the redhead crawl on top of him, not once breaking their connection and delivering another round of warm shivers that surged along his spine.

“Ngh,” he mumbled wantonly against the other’s lips when he felt a rigid bulge bump against his own.

The friction between them was utterly delicious, and Kouki couldn’t stop his hips from completing another circuit. His clothed erection ground against Akashi’s, provoking their carnal kiss and deepening it. Kouki gasped at the seal between them, causing Akashi to buck down and elicit another round of satisfaction.

Reaching upward, his slender fingers delved into silken crimson locks, combing through each strand affectionately. Seijuro thrust his hips again, increasing the burning friction between them and causing him to pull on the dark mane. His lover didn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite, and Kouki found himself blushing as to the reason why. They had done many ruthless acts such as these, and Akashi was more than used to his... boundless enthusiasm.

Their tongues continued to duel, the lack of oxygen beginning to make his consciousness waver. Tugging on Akashi’s hair, he used the motion to signal the distress he was beginning to feel, and given how laboredly Akashi was breathing, Kouki suspected he was similarly far gone.

He was extremely grateful when their connection snapped, the two of them panting loudly and clinging fast to each other's body. Kouki took the chance to catch his breath, swallowing thick gulps of air and allowing it to replenish his aching lungs.

Despite how lightheaded he was, Kouki could still feel the pulsations between their lengths, and he had to close his eyes to diminish some of the stimulation. The tingles remained, the heat between them showing no sign of disappearing anytime soon. All of it was far too much.

When he did unveil his gaze, his lover's dichromatic orbs were beholding him with an intensity that could drive through his very soul. Akashi then shifted forward to drop a chaste kiss onto his swollen lips.

“Kouki,” he rumbled, his voice wispy from exertion.

The brunet found himself shivering. Those eyes, that tone. Everything about Akashi warned him of what was coming, what he knew was inevitable.

“I’m ready to unwrap the rest of my present now.”

 

* * *

**MuraHimu**

* * *

 

Well, this sure was a reversal, Tatsuya mused.

On any typical day, he’d be exercising the skills he’d developed at coaxing Murasakibara into the tasks he wasn’t fond of following through with, instructing him or helping him so that he could put in the minimal effort. It was a behemoth job at times, and it did wear on him occasionally, considering he was more or less dragging the youth through life.

This wasn’t a normal day however.

“Muro-chin, grab me it,” the giant commanded, stretching his hand out.

Breaking free from his trance, Tatsuya glanced around, trying to follow the other’s line of sight to see if he could figure out what he meant. That strategy soon proved futile. Lifting the corners of his mouth in an apologetic smile, he quipped, “And what would that be? Sorry, I spaced out for a little bit there.”

Murasakibara threw him a look that bordered on annoyance, and Tatsuya's smile stretched wider. There was something irrefutably adorable about his lover's pouting expression, one that made him want to tease him more than he probably should, considering Atsushi's short fuse. Still, today had been quite interesting thus far, and he was enjoying himself greatly, playing follower rather than caretaker. Besides the plain amusement, it tickled his fancy to see a diligent Atsushi, one who was capable and in control of the situation. It was a rare and provoking image.

"The icing thing," the other grumbled finally.

"Oh, yes," his eyes darted around, seizing upon the object's location. It lay atop a counter midway between their posts. "Are you sure you don't want to grab it?" he suggested innocently, "it is close to you, Atsushi."

"No, you do it," Murasakibara brushed off his overture, turning back to the platter of cookies he'd been focused on mere moments ago.

"Hmm, I think you deserve a treat for working so hard," he declared impishly, holding the icing gun aloft. Murasakibara's violet orbs swung his direction, intense in their gaze as they studied the instrument. Tatsuya let out a tiny laugh and then sidled closer, beckoning for him to lean down. "All right," he added once that was accomplished, "say 'ah' for me."

The younger male's lips fell open obligingly, and his entire body was still, expectant.

Holding the icing gun a few inches away, Tatsuya pressed down gently and released a small stream. A reddish, gooey substance was then shooting into the other’s mouth, the sugary treat delighting his taste buds. Murasakibara expanded, jaw lowering and widening his mouth as though to beckon for his lover to spill in more.

“More?” he teased, “I guess since you’ve been such a good boy.”

His suggestive tone was pushed aside to partake in another stream of icing. Murasakibara waited until another dose was squirted in, but closed his mouth too quickly this time around, causing some of it to hang off the corner of his lips.

“Ah, hold on a second there,” Tatsuya was already leaning forward. “You have some left.”

“I can get it.”

He went to lick at the corner, but was stopped by another pair of lips that weren’t his. Murasakibara peered down to see his lover licking the remains before pulling back with a small grin.

“There we go,” he announced cheerily, “Say, Atsushi, did you want some more?”  

A question that didn’t need to be repeated, especially when sweets were involved. Murasakibara instantly granted him access, tongue sticking out to capture as much sweetness as he could. Surely another round or two or three wouldn’t hurt… and there would still be plenty left to decorate the cookies.

So when the stream took a complete different shift, Murasakibara was dumbfounded. It wasn’t like Tatsuya to be so poor with aim. On occasion, but this had missed the target entirely and landed way lower than intended.  

Murasakibara frowned at the stickiness dripping down his neck to where his exposed collarbone lay. The sight only caused his frown to deepen. Such wasted goods, and what was worse, they were on parts of him that he wasn’t able to easily swipe back into his mouth.

“Muro-chin missed my mouth, and now it’s gone to waste.”

The raven chuckled lowly. “I wouldn’t say it’s gone to waste.”

Tatsuya swayed forward once more, pressing the pad of his finger to where the icing was dripping from and swiped it from his alabaster flesh.

He paused to smack his lips. “In fact, I think it’s gained a rather useful purpose this way.”

Murasakibara's eyes fixed on him, a sullen gaze pointed his direction. But beneath it he could witness the cogs in his lover's mind turning. Atsushi was slow sometimes, but never ignorant. With him it was more a question of did he want to engage in something than not being able to read the atmosphere. As for now, he'd await the answer.

"Fine."

The answer was underwhelming in tone, but it was all he needed to move forward. Which is why he was thrown off by Murasakibara's hands shooting out to grab the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward before it caught around his shoulders. Pinning his arms to his sides to prevent it being whisked completely off, Tatsuya's glittering expression faded, replaced by one of apprehension. 

"Take it off," Atsushi stated imperiously, "I want to eat you."

And with that, his smile made a cameo once more.

"I believe I was going to have first honors. Be patient," he chided the youth, lips stretching into more of a patronizing smirk. He couldn't help it though, not when nettling him was this fun.

"Take it off anyway then," Murasakibara held firm, "so I can see everything."

Tatsuya mulled over the proposal for a moment, and subsequently lowered his shoulders in defeat. Placing the icer to the side, he deftly removed his shirt, tossing it somewhere into the kitchen. Yet, if this was how things were going to proceed, he had his own retribution to carry out. All things considered it would only make his job simpler, when he was further along.

Lowering his hands to the front of Murasakibara's pants, he set to loosening the button and flicking down the zipper, paying no mind to what the other might have opined of his revisions. When they were satisfactorily open, Tatsuya reached inside, giving his quickening length a squeeze. His lover let an audible whine escape, palms bracing against the counter behind him.

"I think I'll save this for later," he remarked jauntily, glancing up to gauge Murasakibara's reaction.

Predictably enough, he was delivered a glare for his showmanship.

"Shut up, Muro-chin. Get on with it or I'm gonna take my turn first whether you like it or not."

"I'm sure I  _would_ enjoy that," Tatsuya parried. "Your mouth is talented too, it's not only those hands of yours. But later. Be patient with me and you can have whatever you want, baby."

Switching his grip, the raven tugged him out of his underwear, judging that a slight upswing in pace might pacify his impatient lover enough to make him tractable. Atsushi's cock was half-masted, the prominent veins noticeably engorging with blood as he grew more piqued. For a moment, Tatsuya salivated over the masculine composition standing proudly before him, and, almost in tandem, his other hand was ferreting around for his prop, bringing it closer so that he could initiate the scheme.

At last, he knelt, holding the gun aloft as he drew a slender line of icing down the shaft. It curtailed with the remnants flecking those of his fingers coiled around the base; he had plans for those in a moment that he hoped Atsushi would appreciate.

Pleased with his work, Tatsuya eagerly surged forward, laving his tongue just below the head, following the slope of it up to where the first glop of sweetness lay, muddled in with Murasakibara's natural musk. A few searching licks and he'd cleared the brunt of it, earning a telltale jolt of his lover's hips.

He dug into the slit with gusto, nearly faltering at the moan that tumbled through him.

Though he wasn't being serviced in any way, merely doing this was enough provocation for him to imagine it in reverse, Atsushi's broad tongue piercing him and his essence jetting forth, pearling over into the other's waiting mouth. Atsushi sucking it in greedily, his hands grabbing his ass to shove him in deeper. Being consumed from root to crown with that wonderful, velvet heat. His thighs knotted around him, his chest heaving, the protest of his muscles as he climaxed so intensely that it almost bled him dry.

Tatsuya grappled with his lurid imagination, dazed as he transitioned back into reality. The weight of Atsushi's cock bobbed atop his tongue, and he glided against it in apology.

"You're not doing a good job, Muro-chin," the giant chastised, taunting him into gazing upward. "Get it all."

Impudent words, but he had a suspicion they masked an ulterior motive. Whatever the case, he was willing to play along.

Lowering down, he slotted his mouth around Murasakibara's flared tip, gradually allowing more of the crescive length to enter. His path was salved with a saccharine taste, one that moistened his mouth and let him cant more smoothly inside. It was nearly hopeless to try and move his tongue with how girthy his lover was, but he endeavored to if only to capture the icing for himself. Halfway south, he paused, hollowing his cheeks and giving a hearty suck. That jumpstarted a fierce growl, one that only encouraged him on.

Tatsuya's pulse was throbbing, and between what he was focused on and the rising pressure building up inside him, breathing was a challenge.

Drawing back to grant his lungs some relief, he didn't expect the palm fitting stubbornly to the back of his head, preventing him from slipping off entirely. Again, he searched his paramour's gaze. Murasakibara's stare was intense as ever, but signs of his unfurling were evident - similarly pinched off breaths, a hot flush staining his cheeks, even just the gesture he was performing now.

"All of it," he rasped, punctuating each syllable in a manner that wasn't to be reckoned with. 

Obediently he craned his neck, allowing the heated flesh to grind against his slick mouth as he swallowed him down a second time.

Murasakibara's hand caught him when he faltered, suddenly feeling the burn in his jaw from holding it open so wide without any relief. Fingers pressed insistently at the base of his skull, and he weakly complied. His reward was his throat contracting in response to feeling the thick head of his lover's cock striving toward it. Atsushi conceded a low grunt, the noise jagged as though it had been stoppered through gritted teeth.

Despite his handiwork elsewhere, Murasakibara's hips labored with the effort of remaining inert, resisting the primal urge to fuck into the inviting suction bestowed on him. His free one was braced atop the counter, substituting for his center of balance.

Contrary as it seemed though, he wasn't yet close, and Tatsuya was hopeful that before too long, they could settle in for the long haul with something a bit less exclusionary. The power he possessed over him in this situation was remarkable, heady even, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't painfully aroused and keen on doing something to abate that. They were both cursed - or blessed - with stamina to spare, so prolonging it further was probably a bad idea.

And as it turned out, he was just as greedy as in his fantasies. He couldn't wait.

Resisting the fleeting pushback, he eased off with a wet pop and turned his gaze skyward once more. He didn't bother clearing away the strings of icing and saliva clinging to his lips; Tatsuya knew the sight would only further his goals in the end.

He wasn't disappointed in that assumption.

"Muro-chin," Atsushi called, drawing out the syllables in a tone halfway between reprimand and fondness. Then he was meeting him as he rose to his feet, hands gripping beneath his arms and hurrying him along. Tatsuya smiled, obligingly wrapping his legs around his waist when he was lifted, and pressed their straining lower halves together.

Murasakibara barreled forth with clear intent, tongue laving the traces of sweetness away before claiming his mouth in a crushing kiss.

It seemed his lover already knew what he wanted in a second course.

 

* * *

**MidoTaka**

* * *

 

Gritting his teeth, Kazunari imprisoned the moan that threatened to break loose, focusing half his attention to that, and half to the talented fingers knuckle deep inside him. Slender fingers sewn together with a strength and dexterity no one he'd ever met could match, the kind that gave rise to his other half's marvelous shots. They rummaged purposefully through him, gapping him bit by bit until he was nearly bursting from impatience.

"Hurry up," he called when he'd gathered enough breath to push aside the longing crushing his lungs, "Shin-chan, seriously, I'm _fine_."

The mattress dipped behind him, and then Midorima's body was flush with his own, draped around him, consuming every inch of him beneath his statuesque frame. Feeling the heat suffuse between their bodies, Takao errantly mused that sometimes, no incredibly often, Midorima was unfair. Boundless skill, endearing and unwavering dedication, and as if those weren't enough, he possessed an eccentric appeal that Kazunari, biased as he was, found irresistible. 

"Takao **.**... need I remind you that this was your doing?"

Kazunari laughed faintly.

"Nope, you sure don't, and clearly, my offer still stands," he teased, wiggling back until he could feel the hard line of the other's cock pressing against his thighs. Midorima's tip was wet against him, droplets of pre-cum smearing the taut skin and shooting him through with anticipation.

"It would be rather late to change your mind," Midorima returned awkwardly.

"That's right," he encouraged in a low purr, knowing one last push would topple him, "so get in me, Shin-chan."

Their knees knocked together then as his lover sidled closer, slotting between his splayed legs and pressing in at a languid pace. He felt every inch, the heat searing his quivering interior and drawing a pleased hum from his lips.

Finally, he felt Midorima's hand circle around to grasp at him, fitting around the base of his erection and stroking upward with brisk, efficient swipes. And for a moment he relished the weight and solidity of Shintarou above him, the frissons jolting through him from the front, but as the moments wore on, he had to question another part of the equation.

"You gonna move?" he wondered, switching to gnaw on his lip after he spoke.

"Silence, Kazu," Midorima quipped, drawing back and thrusting forth a second later, the roll of his hips smooth and powerful. Takao's teeth bit down, his entire body leaning back into the motion.

"Ahh-that's nice, Shin-chan. Should've said you wanted to take it slow, mm-" he responded, sighing through the lulls in his words and arching his spine as another series of thrusts pistoned into him at a solicitous angle.

It wasn't long before he found himself growing quiescent, focusing slowly on the jolts of pleasure reverberating through them and Midorima's desperate breaths. His thrusts were confined, short snaps forward and back, but he seemed to be toppling fast if the rising tenor of his groans and terse grunts of satisfaction were any clue.

After a particularly lyrical moan trickled out, Kazunari's concentration fled. Not stopping to weigh the idea any further, he turned the tables, breaking free from his lover's hold and rearranging them both.

Mounting him anew, Takao smiled fondly at the attentive cast of Midorima's eyes, watching every movement as it played out. With another little hum of delight, he began sinking down, mimicking the leisurely pace his lover had been enraptured with. The length piercing him was entirely rigid, pulsing when he tightened around it, walls clamping down reactively to the pressure dealt to his sensitive spot. 

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," he remarked, index finger drawing a line down Midorima's torso from sternum to navel. 

Shintarou coughed up a faint scoff, palms settling onto his hips to steady him. He said nothing though, clearly unwilling to rise to the taunt. Takao had to laugh at that, but chose to gaze at him instead, noting the sheen of sweat adorning his forehead, the splay of his hair against their bedspread. Considering how most of the time, it was combed so neatly that not a strand was out of place, he relished the alternative. A slightly mussed, hot and bothered Shin-chan was his ideal, and fully capable of making his heart perform somersaults.

Deciding he'd waited long enough to indulge himself, Takao leaned down to steal a kiss. Yet, before he could reach, his throat was rumbling with the birth of a moan, feeling Midorima push deep all at once, filling him to the brim with all of his weight keeping him there. Gazing at the man hopelessly, he was relieved when Midorima surged up to meet him halfway, one hand switching to cup the back of his head. Their lips greeted hungrily, caressing together with a ferocity that had been building steadily through the last few minutes.

Brushing aside the strain in his neck and back, Takao gave an experimental roll of his hips. It proved to be his undoing. His breathing grew hoarser and he had to pull away to feel a scrap of relief.

"How can you be so big everywhere?" he huffed with half-seriousness.

Midorima's eyes bulged at the lewd observation, and then stubbornly flickered back to neutral. He chuckled at that much, resuming his regime to soothe their mutual embarassment. It wasn't like he'd meant to blurt out the first thing on his mind, but sometimes with him, that just happened.

Rising to his plenary height, Kazunari ground down with determination, matching his lover's upward strokes as the tension culminated within them both. Now he knew they were equally riled, and it wouldn't take much provocation for them to reach their peak together.

He put all of his focus into his movements, gliding tight little circles and savoring the friction of Midorima's cock rutting inside him. The pressure their current angle generated was enlivening, every one of his nerves throbbing with approval.

But most of all, it was the rapturous glance his lover was gifting him with, the way his hands alternately held and caressed what pieces of him they could reach. He wouldn't trade those euphoric sensations for anything. And ultimately, it was a combination of sentimentality and one too many nudges where he was vulnerable that unwound him.

 _Shintarou_ flowed from his tongue without a second thought, and his body froze, taken captive by the shocks of pleasure superseding everything else. Beneath him, Midorima acted hastily for the first time that night, hammering through his climax before following suit with a choked call and painfully strong squeeze of his hips.

After that, laying still began to sound incredibly enticing.

Especially if it involved being tucked under Midorima's arm and getting to hear the quiet, uncharacteristically honest declarations of affection gusted into his ear. It was a period where Kazunari himself was reserved, choosing to bask in the afterglow and the amusement that different as they were, they were both hopeless about each other, weren't they? 

They pushed and pulled each other, he got on Midorima's nerves, and Midorima got on his, but their own brands of weirdness were a large part of the glue that kept them in tact. Why, thinking back to earlier, he'd slipped him some corny line, but Shin-chan being Shin-chan, had taken it eerily in stride, brushing aside the lameness of the remark to act on the atmosphere that Takao was sure he'd quashed with that single misstep.

The house had only been theirs for about a month, and he'd been thrilled at the prospect of decorating it for Christmas. Not that their college apartment hadn't been classy, but it was a  _house_ , and it had the right height ceilings for a normal tree, and lots of rooms to glitz up with tinsel and garland, and well, it was a way of celebrating that milestone. He wasn't usually so gung-ho about the holidays themselves, but it was the principle. 

In the end, it'd taken much trial and error and nitpicking on Midorima's half, but they'd gotten it spruced up. The living room was the last space they had to complete, and by the time they made it over to the last stop, Takao was ready to lay down in his metaphorical manger and call it a night. Of course, that didn't necessarily have to mean sleeping, and so had gone the train of his thoughts when the sight of the crackling fire inspired him.

_“You know, normally the thought of a guy sneaking into my house at night would be a reason to call the cops, but I gotta say I wouldn’t mind if you came down my chimney tonight, Shin-chan.”_

_He'd half expected a distressed squawk for his boldness, maybe some stiff rebuttal and a lecture on reining in his 'juvenile humor,' but what he'd got wasn't any of that._

_Call it a Christmas miracle, but Midorima's eyes had briefly lowered, a subtle flush dusting his cheekbones and he hadn't protested. Not even when Kazunari goaded him some more, trying to glean the usual reaction. Instead, he'd affixed him with the same serious, reverent look he'd donned when confessing all those years ago, bent a little at the knees, and kissed him._

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **@chasingstarfall** as part of our gift exchange.
> 
> Surprise, I was your Secret Santa! I seriously changed my mind a thousand times on what I was going to write for you, both plot-wise and ship-wise xD. And in the end decided on a holiday-themed smutfic collection with some of the couples you listed. I hope you will enjoy this story, such as it is, and have yourself a Very Merry Christmas! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ


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